Dust Gospel
by Febri Chan

“Hello.”

 “Hello~.”

        I can only hear echoes.  I haven’t been dead for long, but I’m already used to it.  It’s difficult living alone in this

 huge, dark house, but I’ve become used to that too.  I was surprised when I ‘woke up’ to find how broad my

vocabulary has grown, and even more so to find how great my understanding of the world and myself grew when I

could  view them from this new perspective.  In the past, I could speak and could reason, but now my thoughts are

 much deeper and I can express them eloquently.  Nevertheless, I remember nothing of my own passing, and I have no

 idea where my parents are.  When I was living, they were so over-bearing, but since that day, all I’ve had was my one

 friend.  Not that there was a shortage of potential friends; people were always coming to see me, but when they did,

most  ran off in fear (that’s okay though, I was just a curiosity to them anyhow).  Yet, while not everyone was so

panicky, those who cared enough to try and get to know me were picked off by my friend.  He’s always there for me;

he is always nearby…but when he leaves, I do feel a bit lonely.


         “Aminah.”  Oh!  He’s calling me.  “Hello, Shaitan!” I said with a smile.  “How many times do I have to tell you,

don’t call me that.” he said curtly.  “Well, you won’t tell me your real name.”  Shaitan isn’t my friend’s real name of

course, but I heard so many of the living flee in horror after encountering him, screaming, “Shaitan, Shaitan!” or

something that sounds a lot like that.  My friend isn’t a ghost like me, Shaitan is a dark spirit. He took responsibility for

me  immediately after ‘my day came’.  The only problem is every so often he requires me to do something for him.

 “Aminah, I’m ready” he stated.  As I looked up into his huge ruby eyes, his large mouth opened and his giant hands

 behind me beckoned me inside.  Moments later, he suddenly spat me out, looking quite frantic.  “There’s a man at the

 door, send him away!  Banish him from our home or I will.” he said, veiling himself as all spirits do around humans,

 “He’s an exorcist come to kill me!”  He won’t, I’ll make sure of that.


            When the door creaked open, I saw the silhouette of a man just younger than my father.  “Hello~.” he lowed

 sitting midway up the stairs.  Bingo!  I had a stroke of inspiration; time to carry out Shaitan’s orders.  As the man sat

 unassuming, I brought a tangible darkness upon the house, a blackness which could be felt.  Not content to stop there I

 also summoned the voices of those suffering in Hell to accost the man from right and left (let me take a moment to say

 that you sure get some cool abilities on this plane of reality), yet none of this took the desired affect on him and he just

 wrote something down in a little notebook.  Time to pull out all the stops.  I then appeared to him, ‘in the flesh’, in a

grotesque, distorted form and approached him slowly.  He was scared, I know he was.  I saw his face the second I

appeared and he was afraid…for but a second.  Maybe he was just startled because I appeared so suddenly. Now

 standing (I hadn’t realized how tall he was) the man said, “I’ve been told that this house, which collapsed, killing its

 owners, ‘miraculously’ stood again four days later.  Is that true?”  Is this guy dense?  Isn’t he afraid?  But what did he

 mean by collapsed?  “Enough is enough,” he declared “my clients specified that there are only two spirits in this house:

a demon and a little girl.  You don’t ‘feel’ like any demon I’ve met.”  Hopping into human form, I giggled “You got me.”

 Again, I saw his expression change momentarily, but not out of fear.



          Clearing his throat and straightening his glasses, the man (named Malak, as I found out) asked again, “So, is it

 true?”  “I don’t know anything about my death.” I replied “I know even less about the history of my house.”  Again he

 wrote a note which read, ‘the death of a child is a hideous thing, but goes to show that death doesn’t trifle about shallow

 things like sex, race, or age.’  “Are you an exorcist, Malak?”  “I am a competent exorcist of all varieties of spirits, but I

 specialize in the salvation of childish souls.”  So, I’m his focus.  Was Shaitan wrong?  I suppose I’ll give this exorcist a

 chance, but only one.  We talked for a short time before I mentioned Shaitan.  “Ah yes, the demon,” Malak said in a

 bored voice, “I’m not so concerned with him, but I do have one important question: are you happy with him?”  What a

 strange question, but I’m not sure how to answer.  I’m not unhappy with him, but our relationship is a bit sterile.  “I love

 him, but sometimes I doubt he cares about ‘me’ (meaning, who I am and what I think).”  “Nonsense, how could he not

 be?” said he.


As he was yet speaking, Shaitan spoke to me and said, “’Enough is enough.’  I will evict this man myself!” and

 caused a mighty wind to expel Malak out a window.  Malak then called back to me, “I’ll come back later when he’s

 calmed down.” And he was gone.  After he left, I turned to Shaitan and asked, “Why can’t I have friends outside of

 you?”  “Because he will steal you from me.” he replied.  “But you get to go to the netherworld freely and make as many

 friends as you want.” I argued “But for now I’m stuck in this house…when you’re gone, I have no one.”  Still, he would

 not listen.  Am I happy with him?  I think I love him, but is he even interested in who I am?  He takes care of me, but

 does he care about me?  I love him, I’ll protect him, and defend him, but…does he love me?


              Later that night, the knock at the door startled me and I was surprised to see Malak had returned after all.  It

 had only been six hours since he left.  “Malak!  I’m glad you came back.”  I said, but I was mostly surprised--many

 exorcists vowed to return after Shaitan blasted them out, but never did.  I hadn’t realized I had been staring at him until

 he spoke, “Is he here tonight?”  “No, he’s seldom around when it gets dark.”  After a short silence, he asked me, “I’ve

 had a headache for the last six hours.  Are you offended by my coming here?”  What kind of question is that?  “Some

 spirits and devils,” he continued “have such abilities over health.  I can take a hint, so if you like I will not come back.”

  “It’s okay.  It’s not me.”  He quickly wrote a short note, ‘Ever since I met this girl, Aminah, my head has been killing

 me.  What’s going on here?  Have I underestimated the demon?  Or is it really her?’  There followed a profound lapse

 in our conversation during which I hadn’t realized his eyes were fixed on mine.  Does he like me?  Or am I seeing things?



                A chill.  A sudden cold came over the room which Malak hadn’t noticed and I saw an ethereal ribbon flow

 between us which also Malak could not see.  It can’t be.  Is Shaitan here?  The ribbon slowly wrapped around Malak’s

 neck and cut off his breathing.  Where is he?  “Shaitan, stop it!” I cried as I watched Malak gasping at my feet and felt

 (I could swear) my heart beat.  I heard his laugh and spotted Shaitan smiling contentedly as he tortured my new friend

.  What can I do?  I have to save him!  Suddenly delighted, Shaitan lifted Malak up and threw him across the room.

  “Pitiful, pitiful!” he laughed.  I ran to his side and found him still breathing.  I could barely hear him above Shaitan’s

 laughter, but Malak said, “Where is he?  If you tell me, I can banish him temporarily…” and began chanting something

 under his breath.  Shaitan then let out an awful shriek and charged at my new friend.  It was then that I lost consciousness…



               When I awoke, I found Malak reading an old book, muttering something in a language I’ve never heard before.

  “Imagine, a spirit losing consciousness.” he chuckled grimly.  Delirious, I started, “What happened?  How did you…?”

  “He’s gone for now, but the one who cast him away was you.  You’re amazing.” he said.  “I hope he’ll be okay…” I

 said neglecting to ask why he complimented me.  After a bout of coughs, Malak stated casually, “Normally, a demon is

 armed only with psychological weapons and if you can keep a level head, demons, ghosts, and devils have no power,

 but your friend chose to attack me directly.  I’ve never encountered a demon with so much freedom…frankly, he

 scared the hell out of me.”  I replied, “I’ve never seen him try so hard to harm anyone…I couldn’t control him.  That’s

 what scared me.”  Was I wrong about Shaitan?  I love him, don’t I?  I’m so confused.  Without concealing his injury at

 all, Malak stood and made his way for the door.  “Malak, wait!”  He looked me in the eyes once again.  “Stay, play

 with me.”  An uncertain silence was broken by his voice, “Certainly, that just so happens to be a highly effective method

 of keeping away devils.  Nevertheless, you will have to stand up to him one day.”  I just stared at him and he smiled and

 said, “Luckily, that is irrelevant to today.”


            Malak returned day after day to play with me and I got to know him better and better.  One time, I even had

 him stay over-night in my house and while he slept I ‘borrowed’ his notebook and read about his private thoughts.  On

 the very first pages was a story about how he chose his career.  It was so well-composed that it must have been revised

 many times.  It recounted how, as a child, he was possessed by many dark spirits and overcame them and drove them

 out through his own will-power.  That’s amazing, but does he expect me to do that with Shaitan?  Impossible.  Although

 he has such faith in me, and although I do feel more confident now, I have no such strength.  At the very end of the

 journal was a short entry, ‘My love for this one has grown too strong, too fast…so much for being professional.’


          My current life was filled with joy by Malak’s consistency and the time he chose to waste on me.  I could feel

 my heart growing stronger and it wasn’t often that I thought about my life spent with Shaitan anymore.  Nevertheless, I

 could still see the smoke of a war billowing over the horizon and I could sense Shaitan all around me, but he would not

 appear.  Why?  Malak could sense him there too now and declared, “Demons ‘wait for your unguarded hours.’  When

 your shields are down, that’s when they strike.  He can’t stand against you now, so he’s not likely to attack you, but in

 order for him to leave you for good, you need to attack and defeat him.”  I couldn’t say a word in response to that.

  “Now’s your chance to overcome devils and demons, Aminah.  You’re not weak anymore, so stand tall.”


          Malak then began scattering salt around the room and reading from a red book a poem recounting the demise

 of a certain demonic army and I could hear Shaitan’s voice; that shriek growing ever louder.  I could see his eyes, those

 two glowing rubies, from within a thick cloud of smoke.  His great hands appeared next and he grabbed me and pulled

 me into the cloud.  The cloud then solidified locking mortal Malak out.


          In the smoke there was no trace of light.  I couldn’t see Shaitan’s eyes anymore, but I knew I was near his

 mouth.  I could feel his hot breath as he howled out curses and accusations against me.  “How could you betray me for

 him?!  I gave you much more valuable gifts: I saved your life!  I dispelled your sadness!”  As he yelled these things at me

 I began to forget everything I learned from Malak and all the old thoughts of: ‘he’s right,’ ‘he was always there for me,’

 ‘he was always with me,’ came rushing back.  “I’m the one you should love, not him.”  Him?  Who?  The smoke, the

 darkness is making me forget something important: something about a ‘shield’, something about a ‘level head’.  Who

 told me that?  Was it…?


          When I finally remembered him, I could see the situation clearly.  I could remember my old life.  I could feel him

 beside me.  “Shaitan,” I said “You’re the one who killed my parents, and you’re the one who destroyed my home.”

 “What?  You don’t know that.  You couldn’t!”  From the midst of the darkness I could see a little light appear bigger

 and bigger.  “I’m not your slave anymore.” I said and Shaitan responded, “Yes you are!  You’re mine!  Mine!!”  The

 light was very bright now and I could see my old friend clearly, the one who comforted me with pain and loneliness, and

 as I stared at him I wondered why, back then, I needed him so much.  Gazing at the demon I understood and declared

 to him, “You mean nothing to me.  I need you no more.” And he began to dissolve into the bright light.  He let out one

 final, terrible cry and was gone from my sight for good.  He wasn’t the real Shaitan after all, just as he told me.  Shaitan

 had no real power as the devil.


          When I returned from inside the smoke, I found Malak waiting for me, but he was different, as I could relate to

 him on the ‘spirit level’ for the very first time.  It couldn’t be!  “Malak, you really were beside me, weren’t you?  Thank

 you,  but what about your life…”  “Don’t fret about that.  I exerted that body because I wanted to support you,

something I could not do in that mortal state.  It’s what I believed in so, it’s nothing to feel bad about.”  He died to help

 me.  Why?  Could he really like me that much?  Overcome, I wrapped my arms around his legs (he’s so tall) and he

 kneeled down and put his around me.  O eternity, have you blessed me with a friend so true?  Heavens and Earth, is

 this dear man truly my gift from you?  O childish soul of mine, this man is my gift to you.


The end.